


His Butler - Rest Well Earned

by Splat_Dragon



Series: Black Butler Drabbles [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Black Butler: Book of Atlantic, Drabble, Injured Sebastian, Kuroshitsuji: Book of the Atlantic, Poor Sebastian, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 05:49:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13047786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splat_Dragon/pseuds/Splat_Dragon
Summary: Sebastian had done good. He'd earned his rest.Drabble set in Black Butler: Book of Atlantic.





	His Butler - Rest Well Earned

It was cold.

Sebastian was still.

If he didn't know otherwise,

he'd say the Demon was dead.

But he'd checked his reflection in the frigid water.

The Contract-mark was still there.

Demons don't need sleep.

They sleep to heal.

Sebastian had been badly wounded.

He'd need to sleep for a while.

He'd earned it.

 

 

The zombies were gone.

On both the ship

and the boat

Sebastian had fought them off

to the butler's detriment.

 

  

He'd given the Earl his overcoat.

His undershirt red with blood.

Ciel tried not to look at the wound

which tore his servant almost in two.

 

 

It was only for the Contract,

he told himself.

Sebastian had merely been

fighting for his meal.

But could that explain

the panic on his face?

When he saw Ciel

being flung through the air?

He'd look terrified,

like he'd actually felt fear.

 

  

Then the Undertaker,

traitor that he was,

had torn him askew.

 

 

Blood had sprayed.

Ciel had screamed

his servant's name.

Sebastian had gasped

in pain

and in fear,

as the Earl had flown beyond his reach.

 

  

But against everything,

he'd saved him.

Stretched himself

despite the pain,

and caught the child's hands

in his own.

 

 

Twisting in the air,

he'd taken the impact.

The pain knocking him

out.

 

 

 The child had been stunned

and turned to face him,

gasping out his name

the one that he'd gave him.

 

 

The butler had

groaned and shifted

telling the Earl

that he could hear him.

 

 

Despite the pain,

he'd stood and fought,

the Grim Reapers,

some good, one not.

 

 

The Reapers had

grinned,

and laughed,

and joked,

feeling the Demon

hadn't a chance

in Hell.

 

  

But still the Demon

at his Master's order,

had proceeded to

take one out with the other.

A punch, a kick,

with gravity's blessing

had attacked the Reaper

leaving the other one guessing.

The Reaper had

been flung and

had fallen,

taking out the other

before he could dodge him.

 

 

That done,

the Demon had

turned to the last

Shinigami, mad

as always,

the Reaper had laughed

finding the plight

of his lessors

funny, quite.

 

 

Pulling out his weapon,

he'd prepared to kill

the Demon upon him.

But the boat had shifted,

turning this way,

and that,

in the oceans' sway,

it threatened to buckle.

 

 

The Shinigami,

turning to flee,

dropped something

that the Earl caught.

In shock,

he turned to the Earl

and grinned,

telling him to keep it safe.

 

 

The Demon,

close on his heels,

grabbed up the Earl,

and kicked up his heels.

Dodging falling

corpses and debris,

the Earl calling,

his Demons name.

They'd survived

Angels, Demons,

Reapers and Madmen,

and more.

Could they be felled

by something as simple as

a tragedy at sea?

 

  

The Demon swore, no.

Despite the wound,

refusing to heal,

he told the Earl so.

Leaping this way

and that,

he reached the keel.

 

 

The boat creaked

and groaned,

shifted,

and moaned,

threatening to give

beneath the Demon's

smartly clad feet.

 

 

Grabbing a life buoy

he told the Earl

to hold his breath

before throwing him

away from his death.

The Earl falls,

plummets without

a scream.

Seeing his Demon

silhouetted against the

fracturing boat.

 

 

Beneath the water,

he sank,

losing his grip

on the buoy.

The Demon leaped

cutting through the water

saving the Earl,

from a death after the slaughter.

Hauling him up,

onto a boat.

Seeing the child shiver

he gave him his coat.

 

 

Getting in the boat hurt,

and he checked on his wound,

seeing that it had yet to heal.

An oddity,

as he was a Demon.

But a Grim Reapers scythe

can kill even them.

He'd been lucky,

that Undertaker hadn't

hit him ever so slightly

higher,

where his soul sat

at rest,

ready to be harvested

at a Reaper's behest.

 

 

He was so tired,

his eyelids were heavy,

the wound stung,

with each breath he

didn't need.

But the Demon

couldn't yet rest.

 

 

Seeking his Young

Master's soul,

the zombies arose,

each moaning like a ghoul.

Struggling to his feet,

the Demon grabbed

the paddle and,

prepared to fight.

 

 

The Master crouched down,

staying out of the way,

as the Demon fought,

and the boat began to sway.

 

 

One after the other,

the zombies all fell,

as the Demon fought,

and his eyes

glowed with hellfire.

 

 

By the time he was done,

the zombies no more,

the sun was rising,

on a brand new day.

 

 

From afar, a boat

sounded its horn,

as Sebastian

dropped the paddle

and fell to his knees.

 

 

Turning to him,

red meeting blue,

the Earl told the Demon,

he had earned a rest.

The Demon was stunned

his Master wasn't kind,

but simply bowed his head,

and bantered back.

 

  

As the people aboard the boat,

panicked over his butler,

hurrying to the makeshift

sick-ward,

Ciel turned to greet

what family he had left.

In the corner of his eye

he saw his butler,

being loaded onto a stretcher,

nurses rushing about.

 

 

For the first time,

in seemingly forever,

the Earl felt

guilt.


End file.
